Triple Team
by lildreamer7
Summary: Chaps 3 and 4 up! Secrets have been revealed. Closely guarded secrets of something gone terribly wrong in a past that three CSIs share. Secrets that will destroy them. The stakes have been raised. And time is running out. Crossover with LV and Miami.
1. What's Gone on Before

**Title:** Triple Team

**Author:** lildreamer

**Rating:** T

**Pairings:** Various pairings—SMacked, Grillows, DuCaine, and others…

**Spoilers:** I will let you know at the beginning of each chapter. None for this one.

**Summary:** One killer so diabolical, so dangerous, so deadly will attract the attention of CSIs across the nation when he pulls off the greatest crime the CSIs have ever witnessed. Three very different teams of CSIs will be drawn together only to find themselves thrown into the killer's deadly game where the only way to win...is to lose.

It's a race against time and deadly betrayal. They are all about to be tested to the very limit. And they are prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. Because ultimately, one of them will lose this fight...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the CSIs or their characters. They are the sole property of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer.

**A/N:** Hey, ya'll! Sorry it took me so long to update. My new job's been working me like a dog. Anyway, here's the third and last installment in my "Triple" series. This first section is meant to help refresh those who've read _Triple Threat_ and _Triple Trouble_. For those of you that haven't, this will help you catch up. Enjoy!

* * *

_**Seven days ago in Las Vegas…**_

"Lindsey, are you okay?" Grissom asked, taking the young girl in both arms. "What happened?"

"She—she's gone!" she sobbed, pointing at something on the floor. "He took her! He took my mom…"

He held the girl protectively, letting her cry into his chest, as he looked to where she had been pointing. His eyes widened. A gun and a single, tiny bullet lay in a small pool of blood a few feet away.

Someone had shot Catherine then kidnapped her!

* * *

Nick stood up to follow Sara out of the room when the computer began beeping. They both whirled around. The gun had gotten a hit on IBIS!

Nick jumped back into his seat and studied the screen, Sara standing behind him looking over his shoulder.

"It says here that the gun is a match to one that was used in a robbery a few months ago down in…_Miami_."

* * *

_**Two days ago in Miami…**_

"Lt. Caine, it's nice to finally meet you," the Vegas CSI said, shaking the lieutenant's hand.

"How long has she been missing?"

Grissom frowned. "Almost three days."

"Don't worry, my friend." Horatio pulled on his sunglasses as they headed out to the Hummer. "My team and I will do everything we can to help find your CSI."

* * *

"There's something you need to see," Grissom explained, pulling something out of his pocket.

Horatio studied the familiar evidence bag in the man's hand. A small gun was inside. A .38.

"My guys found it at Catherine's house. Her kidnapper left it behind. It's one of the things that led us here…This gun was used in a robbery a few months ago in South Beach. Do you remember that case?"

Horatio blinked. "Of course. But why are you telling me all this?"

Grissom looked the lieutenant straight in the eye. "I think one of your CSIs is in danger."

Horatio's eyes widened. _No…_ He pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial. The other line rang and rang, but there was no answer. He slipped the cell phone back into his belt clip and rushed out of the room.

"Lieutenant?" Grissom followed Horatio out the door. The man was clearly upset.

Horatio turned to face him, his eyes now hidden behind dark sunglasses.

"It's Calleigh."

* * *

"Calleigh!" the lieutenant shouted, heading for the pier at full sprint. Feet pounded around him. His team and several officers spread out searching for the blonde CSI.

Before Horatio even reached the structure, he could see there was no one up top. He immediately ran down below. He found her kit and some new evidence, but there was no sign of its owner. He gritted his teeth and whirled around. He yelled again, at the top of his lungs. "Calleigh!"

His voiced echoed back. The place was deserted. He pulled off his sunglasses and ran a hand through his hair. They were too late. Calleigh was gone.

"H, what do we do now?" Eric asked.

"We're going to find whoever did this." The lieutenant slipped his sunglasses back on, making his way toward the Hummer. "I want this guy's head on a stick."

* * *

Horatio suddenly noticed a lone figure in the corner of his eye, watching them from behind.

* * *

_Classified. Authorized personnel only._

"Nick?" Warrick suddenly noticed that his friend was trying to open the file, but in a very unconventional way. He was trying to hack his way in. "What are you doing??"

Nick wasn't listening anymore and was staring at the screen wide-eyed. He'd gotten in, but after seeing what he'd uncovered, he wished he hadn't.

Sara followed his gaze and gasped. "Oh my god…"

* * *

Calleigh blinked. She knew this woman.

She sat up, startled. "Catherine? Catherine Willows?"

* * *

"You okay?" Catherine asked.

Calleigh stared out the window at the world outside, her eyes wide. Huge skyscrapers loomed in the distance. A bridge stretched out over a small body of water. _This isn't right…_

She spun around to face Catherine, her face troubled. "Where are we??"

* * *

Eric suddenly appeared behind Grissom. "H, you need to come to the A/V lab! Some guy hacked into Coop's computer!

"Whoa, Eric, slow down. What's going on?"

The younger CSI's next words got the lieutenant's full attention. "He has Calleigh."

* * *

Without warning, he pressed the barrel against Calleigh's right thigh, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot rang through the room. Calleigh arched her back, screamed through her gag, then dropped back against the chair sobbing.

Horatio's mind passed the threshold of whatever he'd used to control his emotions. He balled his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"Who are you?!" Grissom asked, no longer able to remain silent.

The man laughed. "You still don't remember me, do you, Gil? What about you, lieutenant? You remember me. Don't you, Red?"

Horatio's eyes widened. He recognized the nickname. Only one person had ever called him "Red."

* * *

Duke slammed his fist down on the counter and faced the lieutenant with a wild-eyed stare. "How could you let my baby get kidnapped by some psycho who won't even show his face?! You know the score here. I don't have to tell you the chances of finding her. Much less alive."

"Yes, but I have always been one to beat the odds. And I won't rest until she's found. Alive." Horatio slipped his sunglasses on and turned to leave. "I give you my word."

* * *

"Hey, guys!" Cooper suddenly burst into the room. "I think I might have figured out where that guy was transmitting from!"

All heads turned to face him. "Where???"

"An old warehouse a few blocks away from the crime scene."

"Guys, you're not gonna like this," Frank said, putting his phone away. "Someone just turned that warehouse into a pile of ashes."

* * *

The fireman pointed at the table. Lying there was a scorched ID card and a melted badge.

Horatio and his team immediately recognized the badge. All their faces twisted with anger and resentment. Grissom's eyes fell on the ID card. Every eye focused on him, awaiting a verdict.

His voice quavered, though he tried to control it. "It's hers."

* * *

Horatio suddenly grabbed a fistful of Wells' hair and slammed his head down on the table. The sound of Wells' skull smacking into the metal made everyone in the vicinity jump.

"Tell me where she is, you son of a—" Horatio growled in Wells' ear as the man struggled and winced, his face red as a tomato.

Wells laughed. "Over. My. Dead. Body."

"That can be arranged."

* * *

"This is incredible," Eric muttered as he took a closer look at one of the bomb fragments.

Ryan nodded in agreement, examining a melted digital timer. "It's ingenious."

Eric shook his head in wonderment, still sifting through the pieces. "I've never seen anything like this…"

"_I have_."

* * *

Mac's eyes were suddenly drawn to an evidence bag sitting off to the side. His eyes widened.

He snatched the bag up from the table and took a closer look just to be sure. His heartbeat quickened. "This belongs to one of my CSIs. She lost it a few days ago." He met Horatio's gaze, his voice knotted with fear. "Horatio, this belongs to Stella."

* * *

Mac stared at the computer screen, eyes wide. He scolded himself. "Idiot!"

"Who?" Horatio was at his side and followed his gaze.

"Me." He'd had Cooper pause the video and zoom in on something in the background. There, on a desk in the corner of the room, was a dark-colored policeman's hat. An NYPD standard issue policeman's hat. "I have to go back."

Mac pulled out his cell phone and rushed out of the room. The phone began to ring. He answered it. He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and the lieutenant almost ran into him.

"Mac—?" Horatio just about asked.

The detective's face turned white.

"I led him right to her."

* * *

**And now, the conclusion…**


	2. Wednesday Afternoon

"Over there! Our suspect just ducked behind that building!" The detective motioned to a spot where the beam of his car's headlights shone down a dark alley.

He and the cruisers that had been following him slowed to a stop at the curb.

Det. Don Flack unsnapped his pistol from its holster under his coat. "Check that alley, boys. I saw somethin' movin' down there."

The beams of several flashlights moved back-and-forth through the dark alley. "There he is!" one of the officers yelled.

Flack opened the car door. "Cover me," he ordered.

Det. Danny Messer, who'd followed in his own vehicle, came to stand next to his friend, his own gun at the ready.

"Come out with ya hands over ya head!" Flack yelled.

The large figure stepped from behind a dumpster and unsteadily lifted his right hand to shield his eyes from the bright lights.

"Who are you?" the man called out. "I can't see."

"NYPD. Hands up!"

The man raised his hands, took a step toward the lights, and tripped over a smashed up cardboard box. Raising himself to his knees, he shook his head from side to side.

Flack ran forward, stepped over the box, and expertly handcuffed the suspect.

"Get up," he ordered.

With effort, the man rose to his feet and tripped again over the box. As he fell, he grabbed the detective, who lost his balance and landed on top of him.

"Can ya handle him?" Danny called, smirking.

Flack stayed on the man's back and quickly frisked him for weapons. "He don't got a gun. Get him outta here."

Two officers came forward, lifted the man to his feet, and half-carried, half-dragged him to one of the patrol cars. Opening the rear door, they put him in the backseat, where he fell over to his side, unconscious.

"He got ID?" Danny asked.

"I felt a wallet when I frisked him." The detective took the man's wallet from the back pocket of his pants and flipped it open. "Here ya go. New York driver's license. Noah Davis."

Leaning into the patrol car, Danny reached across Davis' still form with gloved hands. "I'll check his front pockets." He pulled out some spare change and a car key. "Hey, guy's got a Porsche. The Thompson girl's car?"

"Let's take him in, boys."

* * *

He sits in the police cruiser he stole about a day ago and watches the plainclothes officer sitting in his own car, glancing up at the building every few seconds.

"Perfect…"

He smiles. His evil plan is working.

"Stella," he whispers. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Give me a kiss, baby."

No one has stirred in the building since his arrival thirty minutes ago. But he knows she's there. Putting this woman in a cage will send Mac through the roof.

"It's payback time."

He waits an hour. Two. The night is dead when he eases himself out of the cruiser and heads for Stella's apartment building.

* * *

Mac stared out the window of the plane, absently watching the clouds go by. His mind was buzzing with a million thoughts. There was someone out there abducting CSIs. Someone that wanted revenge for what he and two others had done years ago. And now, the sick monster was after Stella.

He closed his, recalling the last real conversation he'd had with her. It was late one night after shift. They were having dinner at her favorite restaurant. About a month before he'd started going out with Peyton.

_She stared at him across the candle flame. "You like her, don't you?"_

"_Who, Peyton?" Mac shrugged. "She seems like a good person."_

"_I don't mean in a 'good person' kind of way."_

"_Come on, Stella. I hardly know her."_

"_But you do like her. I can see it in your eyes when you say her name."_

_Mac felt his face flush. "She's a forensic pathologist who's helped us with cases on more than one occasion. What's there not to like?" He looked up at her, smiling. "She reminds me of you."_

"_Really? How so?"_

"_Kind. No-nonsense. Pretty…"_

"_Like I said, you like her."_

"_Please—"_

"_It's okay, Mac," she said softly. "I want you to like her."_

"_You do?"_

"_Yeah. I approve." She grinned and placed the last bite of food in her mouth. "Besides, I think she likes you."_

"_Peyton? She told you that?"_

"_Woman's intuition. Remember?"_

He'd always wondered how she could just let him go like that without so much as a hint of jealousy or reservation. And now, he was finally beginning to understand. She really did care about him…a lot more than she had let on. All she wanted was for him to move on and be happy. Even if it wasn't with her.

"Stella…I hope it's not too late."

* * *

Flack was pretty satisfied with himself that evening. They'd caught the bad guy and closed the case. All in record time. He had already clocked out for the night and was walking past the dispatch office on his way out when he heard something that made him freeze mid-step.

"Dispatch, this is Officer Bell," the officer's voice squawked on the radio. "We got us trouble. Possible kidnapping in progress. Request back up."

It took Flack a moment to realize why that officer's name had caught his attention. Wasn't he the officer that had been assigned to stake out Stella's place?

"Officer Bell, this is dispatch," the female dispatcher responded. "Back up is on its way."

"Copy that…Oh my…Crap, crap, crap. There he is! He's—" The faint sounds of gunfire popped on the radio speaker. Flack swore. Stella was in trouble. Judging by the sounds immediately following, the officer had dropped the radio and scrambled to help.

"Get a hold of Det. Taylor and advise him of the situation," Flack ordered. He yanked the door open. "I'm on my way."

Mac had warned them this might happen. Why hadn't he kept a closer eye on her…

* * *

**Ooo…will they get to Stella in time? Review to find out!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey, everyone! Here's another chapter! Thanx 4 all the reviews…they rock! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Night, Lindsey…" Stella yawned. "See you tomorrow."

She put the cordless phone back into its cradle and headed toward the bathroom to get ready for bed. She had just picked up her toothbrush and pulled out a tube of toothpaste when a creak from behind her stopped her cold.

_Someone was in her apartment!_

She quietly set her brush down on the sink and tiptoed toward the doorway. She peeked into her bedroom and saw no one there. Without a sound, she made her way toward the bed and reached under the pillow. Her fingers wrapped around the familiar cool metal.

With gun in hand, she slid into a dark corner of the room and waited…

* * *

The cop was gone—a fact that made his plan even sweeter. He'd sent the officer away on the pretense of relieving him and walked straight through the front door. He quickly made his way up to her apartment. He stepped up to the door and picked the lock. He twisted the knob and pushed the door open, withdrawing the gun from his hip. He took a deep breath, cocked the gun, and stepped into the room.

Moving fast, he slid through the apartment taking in the table, the kitchen, and the bedroom door to the left. He scanned the bedroom. Bed with rumpled blankets. No body.

A sliver of light snaked out through the slightly open bathroom door. He spun around. The floor creaked. She must be in the bathroom.

Moving more on instinct than with calculation, he flew across the room, shoved the door open, and trained his weapon on an empty tub.

Empty tub.

Empty room.

Empty apartment.

"_Don't move_."

* * *

Mac got off the plane, grabbed his things, and dashed out of the airport. He picked up his car at the lot and immediately headed straight for the lab. He was about halfway there when he got the phone call.

Stella was in trouble. He had to call Flack!

No, not now. Now he had to get to Stella.

Mac jerked his foot off the accelerator and slammed it down on the break. The car's tires squealed. A horn shrieked behind him. He swung into the left lane, ignoring another horn, and did a u-turn. He leaned on his horn and cut into the center lane with a brief glance in his mirror. He gunned the motor and shot forward.

His thoughts spun crazily as he drove like a madman toward Stella's apartment, breaking all the speed laws as he did. He had to get to her before…

* * *

"Drop the gun."

Stella had obviously been more alert than he'd guessed. She might not be as good a shot as he was, but with a gun at close range, she could kill just as easily.

He turned slowly, gun hand raised.

"I said drop it!"

He dropped the Colt.

He'd misjudged her, but if the CSI knew the extent of his skills, she'd have shot him while she had the chance. Instead, Stella thought she had the upper hand and intended to question him. Or use him.

He spread his empty hands. "Sastified?"

Stella stared at him. "You walk too loudly. I'm surprised you found a way around that officer sitting outside."

"It won't be your last surprise," the man said. "Why don't you kill me?"

"If you don't cooperate, I will. Now, who are you?"

"Why don't you ask the man you call your boss?"

"Mac?" Stella's eyebrows shot up. "How do you know Mac?"

"I know a lot of things. Things that could cost your friend his job."

"What are you talking about?"

The man let a shallow grin cross his mouth. Stella didn't know.

A noise in the hallway suddenly drew their attention. They both turned their heads toward the front door. With Stella momentarily distracted, the man twisted the gun from her hands and turned it on her.

Stella threw her hands in the air, now completely defenseless.

"Stay," he snapped, bounding for the door.

He could hear voices making their way up the stairs. The thought of being caught now mucked up his instincts.

Stella was reaching for the Colt behind him. He whirled around and shot the pistol from her hand. "I said stay!"

She cried out and snatched her hand close to her chest.

"Get up," he said, eyeing the window behind her. The fire escape was the only way out now.

He glanced out the window. Several squad cars were parked haphazardly down below including the one he'd sent away earlier. Stella's "bodyguard" had returned. Somehow, he'd figured out that the man who'd come to relieve him wasn't who he appeared to be. And he wasn't alone. He'd called for back up.

The loud pounding on the door suddenly reminded him of where he was. He pushed Stella forward, prodding her with his gun.

"Out the window!"

With no choice but to obey, Stella stepped out onto the fire escape. Her captor followed close behind. When she made no attempt to climb down, he shoved the barrel of his gun against her back.

"C'mon, move!"

She moved. He followed.

They were almost to the bottom when Stella spotted a familiar car pulling up at the curb. Her pulse quickened. It was Mac! The man saw what she was staring at and swore loudly.

"What are you gonna do now, tough guy? You'll never get past Mac."

"Shut up!" he shouted and pulled her roughly in front of him. He held the gun to her head and pushed her forward.

"What are you doing?"

"Mac is going to prove his love for you."

* * *

**Ooo…exciting, isn't it? What happens next? Review to find out!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey, yall! I'm back! Been away for a while…anyway, here's a couple more chapters for your reading pleasure. Thanx 4 all the reviews! Enjoy!**

**Spoilers: A tiny one for All Access**

* * *

"Hey!" Don watched as the suspect leaped off the last ladder and ran down the darkened alley toward the street, pulling Stella with him. 

Down below, Mac had just arrived and heard all the shouting. He immediately looked up towards Stella's apartment and found Flack yelling out the window. He followed the detective's gaze and spotted two figures running toward him from the alley.

"Let go of me!" Stella struggled to free herself from her captor's grasp.

"Hey!" Mac drew his gun.

The man held Stella in a stranglehold, using her as a shield. A gun was in his hand, and it was pressed against Stella's head.

"Drop the gun, Pete!" Mac said, his own gun trained on the man.

The man allowed himself a smile. "You remember me. You've been talking to Lt. Caine and Dr. Grissom."

"Let her go!"

"No can do, Mac." The man backed up, dragging the female CSI with him.

"Mac!" Stella screamed. "Shoot him!"

"You shoot me and she dies!" Pete threatened, pressing the gun harder against Stella's temple causing her to whimper.

Mac adjusted his aim and cocked the gun…but he couldn't shoot. Something was in his line of fire. That something was Stella. Her body covered most of Pete's, shoulders down, but his head was above hers, providing an easy shot at this range. Mac doubted Pete had any intention of giving him that shot so easily. He would duck as Mac pulled the trigger, pulling his shot down, into Stella's head.

Mac felt the sweat gathering on his palms. His muscles had coiled tight. His gun wavered downward.

Stella noticed Mac's hesitation and stared at him wide-eyed and confused. Why wasn't he firing? Out everyone at the department, Mac was the most skilled shooter she'd ever seen. He'd honed those skills when he had been a Marine. He could hit a target a mile away. But now, it seemed he'd lost confidence in those skills. He just stood there, his gun ready, but made no attempt to fire.

"Mac?! What are you waiting for? Shoot him!"

"Shut up!" Pete cocked his gun, effectively silencing her.

Mac's eyes widened. "Don't do it, Pete!" He brought his gun back up. "You want _me_, not her."

"You won't shoot me," Pete sneered. "You can't. You can't risk hitting your little girlfriend."

Stella saw the fear flash across Mac's face as he followed their movements with his gun. It was true. Mac couldn't do it. He couldn't risk it. What if he missed and hit Stella instead?

Pete noticed the look the two CSIs shared. He knew how much Stella cared for Mac. Love had been in every glance during his surveillance of them, and it lit her eyes even now. Stella was madly in love with Mac.

Mac met Stella's gaze and she could clearly see the pain in his eyes. He looked back at her, silently apologizing for what he was about to do. He didn't have a choice. He glared at the other man, lowering his gun reluctantly.

Stella sighed, her eyes downcast, as her captor dragged her toward a cab that had pulled over down the street. Mac turned away, his eyes burning with anger and resentment.

Don appeared next to him, shaking his head. The man was escaping. "Mac, ya had him. What happened?"

He'd known. Pete had known that Mac wouldn't shoot. Not if it meant risking Stella's life.

He'd found Mac's weakness.

* * *

The cabby was caught by surprise when Pete pushed Stella into the back of the cab then climbed in after her. 

"Drive," he told the cabby.

The driver turned in his seat to face his unwelcome passengers, clearly upset. "What the he—" He suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

The gun cocked loudly. "Now."

The man twisted back around to face the front. The cab pulled out, braked hard to avoid colliding with a sedan, then surged into the flow of traffic.

* * *

Mac walked up into Stella's empty apartment, propelled by the need to save his friend. 

With each step through her home, his decision to let that madman take away the woman he loved haunted him. He had to force his legs forward, through the door, over pieces of over-turned furniture. All evidence of a struggle. But his instinct told him that his decision was a good one. Maybe the only way to save Stella.

He barely noticed the rest of his team arrive to process the scene. They all looked upset but were somehow still able to concentrate on their work. As Mac watched them, he couldn't help but think of the last time they'd had to go through her apartment like this. Frankie had ruined her life. Ever since their encounter, Stella had never felt completely safe in her own home anymore. And now, this…

Danny called him over to show him a gun he'd found lying on the ground. A Colt. The kidnapper's gun. He'd left it behind.

But Mac's mind wasn't on the evidence. Not now.

Now his mind was on the one woman besides his late wife whom he loved. If they didn't find this madman in time, the other two CSIs and Stella would die.

Under no circumstances would Mac allow Stella to die.

* * *

"Pull over," Pete said. 

The cabby grunted something in another language and pulled to the curb. Reaching under his coat, Pete quickly affixed a silencer to the barrel of his pistol.

Stella watched him. "What are you doing?"

The moment the cab came to a stop, he climbed out, hurried around to the driver's window, and shot the man through the temple. The man slumped over so that his head lay across the bench seat. Pete stuck his head though the window and winked at Stella.

"Get up front, please."

She didn't obey at first, and he thought about disposing of her right then and there. She evidently had figured as much and now came to her senses.

"He's up there," she said.

"There's room."

Pete climbed in, shoving the man out of the way. Stella opened the front door and studied the dead body. The CSI in her couldn't help but be a bit curious.

He jerked the body upright to give Stella more room. "Please, hurry."

Stella obliged.

"You'll never get away with this," Stella remarked as he pulled back into traffic. "You're getting careless." She pushed the dead driver's head off her shoulder. The man slumped forward and struck the dash with his face. It was a good position.

"You don't have the slightest clue what you're talking about. Please be quiet."

"Look, mister. I may not be—"

The dead driver's hand flew up and backhanded her across the face with a loud _smack_.

Then Pete did it again, this time as she watched fully aware of what was happening. He reached over and lifted the driver's arm, stopped it inches from her cheek, and then patted her face gently.

"Please be quiet," Pete said and let the arm drop.

She obeyed him.

* * *

Lt. Horatio Caine from Miami and Dr. Gil Grissom from Las Vegas arrived in New York about an hour later, their respective teams in tow. After sending off their teammates to the crime lab, the two supervisors made their way over to Stella's apartment. 

They found Mac and the remainder of his team there, just finishing up processing the scene. Mac was standing by the window, staring outside, obviously upset. The others slipped out of the room a few moments later, leaving the three supervisors alone.

Horatio stood off to the side, his sunglasses in his hands. He glanced sideways at his friend, knowing only too well exactly how he was feeling. They both did. Grissom slumped in a seat, shaking his head, defeated.

They had now each lost someone from their teams. Someone who, they hadn't realized until now, meant more to them than anything. And what was more frustrating was that they knew exactly who was behind it all, but they were helpless to stop him. He'd outsmarted them.

Mac suddenly whirled around and marched toward the door, a look of sheer determination on his face.

"This ends now."


	5. Chapter 4

Mac, Horatio, and Grissom walked into the New York crime lab and immediately went in search of their teams. They were men on a mission. They were each missing a person from their teams. And they were all willing to do whatever it would take to get them back.

Grissom had just found Warrick and Greg hanging around with Adam, one of the local lab techs, when his cell phone began to chirp from his pocket. He quickly pulled it out and found that he had a message. He called up his voicemail and listened…

_"Hey, Grissom, it's Mandy. I pulled some prints off that note you gave me. Got a hit on AFIS. A Richard Carlson. Has an address in New York. Hope that helps. Bye!"_

Grissom snapped his phone shut, his mind buzzing. That name…he recognized it…it was Pete's brother. But everyone called him RC. Wait a minute…how did he know that? He shook his head. It was strange how little tidbits of information like that would just suddenly pop into his head. It was a bit disturbing.

He immediately ran to find Mac and Horatio. They finally had a lead. Maybe now they would get some answers. Answers that would help them find their missing friends.

* * *

Catherine and Calleigh jumped from their seats at the commotion outside. The two CSIs had been trying to formulate a plan of escape when they heard the slam of a car door. It looked like they were getting a new roommate. But whoever it was, she wasn't going quietly. It sounded like she was putting up quite a fight. Someone suddenly yelped in pain then there was a loud slap. A whimper. Silence.

The sound of the door being unlocked caught their attention. Both ladies turned just as the door opened with an ominous squeal. A mop of dark curly hair suddenly flew into the room and hit the floor, hard. Someone swore as the door slammed shut behind her.

The two immediately ran to her side to help. She looked up at them, disoriented, her eyes rolling around, unable to focus.

"Hey, you okay?" Catherine spoke gently.

"What's your name, sweetie?" Calleigh asked.

"S—Stella," the woman answered, her words slurred.

Calleigh vaguely recognized the name. Horatio had mentioned her after returning from one of his trips to New York.

"Something's wrong with her," Catherine said. "Help me get her onto the bed."

With some effort, Catherine and Calleigh somehow hauled Stella onto the bed where she immediately collapsed, her head lolled to one side.

"I think she's been drugged."

"And I think I know how." Calleigh pointed out a red spot on Stella's arm. A tiny puncture wound was barely visible. "He injected her with something."

"She's still alive though," Catherine said, checking her pulse. "But she won't be for long if he keeps dosing her like that."

Things were starting to look grim for the three female CSIs. One had been beaten and raped, one had been crippled, and the other had been drugged. If they weren't found soon, they weren't sure they would be able to survive much longer.

Stella's eyes fluttered momentarily and in her haze, muttered a single word.

"Mac…"

* * *

More determined than ever to find their missing CSIs, Horatio and Grissom, accompanied by Flack, headed for Rick Carlson's place. They had to ring the bell several times before someone opened the door.

"You don't give up easy, do you?" said the sour-faced man in the doorway.

"No," Horatio looked up at him. "We don't."

"Are you Richard Carlson?" Don asked.

"Who wants to know?"

Don immediately revealed his badge. "NYPD. We're actually looking for your brother. You wouldn't happen to know where he is by any chance, would you?"

He started to shake his head. "No, I don't—"

"Today is not a good day to lie to me, man."

"I—I swear, I have no idea—"

"Sure you do." Grissom stepped forward. "You're the one who left me that note, remember? _Under no circumstances are you to investigate this._ What does that mean exactly?"

He started to close the door. "I'm sorry. I'm kinda busy—"

Horatio kicked the door, hurling it open and hurling him a good distance, too. "Don't ever shut the door when an officer of the law is speaking to you."

He was about to continue arguing, but there was a very angry cop coming into his house. He turned and ran through the house and out the back door—where Mac was waiting for him and quickly slammed him face-first against the back wall, holding him there in an inescapable armlock.

"Now we can make this really simple. You know where our CSIs are and we want them back." He gave the man another slam against the wall. "Your turn."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

Another slam. "Wrong answer."

A voice behind them ordered, "Let him go, Taylor."

There was a tall, imposing man standing a few feet away, one hand tucked inside his suit jacket.

Everyone froze, but Mac didn't let go.

"Easy now," said the man. "We're on the same side." He pulled a badge from his jacket pocket and showed it to them. "The name's Mike Trellis. I'm his Parole Officer. I've been keeping an eye on him since I heard his brother was sighted."

"Mike Trellis," Mac repeated thoughtfully.

"So, what'd ya find out?" Flack demanded.

"Not much. His brother hasn't come around here, yet. Probably knows you're on to him. Look, some of your people are missing and I want to know what he knows as much as you do. Now, just take it easy and let him go."

There were a couple of steps leading up to the back door. Mac put the man there, keeping an eye on him.

Grissom approached Mike Trellis. "What do you know about our CSIs? Where are they?"

Trellis stepped forward, reaching inside his jacket again. "Now, like I said before—"

"HEY!" Mac grabbed his arm, forcing it skyward.

His hand was holding a gun.

Flack was there in an instant, but Mac already had Trellis in a very painful armhold, and with a skillful move he'd probably learned as a Marine he threw him to the ground. In less than a second, Trellis was looking up into the barrel of his own gun, now in Mac's hand.

Flack smiled and gave a little nod. Having an ex-Marine as cop came in handy sometimes.

"I've had someone pull a gun on me before," Mac told Trellis. "and that's what it looked like."

Horatio caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Rick Carlson was gone, the door was still flapping open where he'd passed.

"I have something to take care of." Horatio slipped his sunglasses on and took off after him.

Flack strode up to Trellis, now on his stomach, and handcuffed him.

Mac knelt beside him. "And now, Mr. Trellis, you will tell us exactly where our CSIs are."

* * *

**Ooo…Mac's mad. What happens next? Review to find out!**


End file.
